


Pastel Gunge

by OctarinePegacorn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Cyclops - Freeform, F/F, Monster Girl, Monster Girls, Slime, Slime Girl, Slime Girls, actually friend's character but she doesn't have a fandom so eh, cyclops girl, if you like slimy yuri or shojo ai or whatever you came to the right place, puns, slime puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctarinePegacorn/pseuds/OctarinePegacorn
Summary: After observing trayful after trayful of unappetizing cookies, you saw one that was covered in snickerdoodles. She stared down at them, her lips parted.“Those look like dicks.”“Pastel.”“Dickerdoodles.”“Pastel, no.”





	Pastel Gunge

**Author's Note:**

> Pastel is my friend Taylor’s character. ([PinkieLover98](%E2%80%9Cpinkielover98.deviantart.com%E2%80%9D) on DA and [sparkly-arts](%E2%80%9Csparkly-arts.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) on Tumblr.) She’s kind of a rascal. Making sure she stayed in character was fun. Taylor drew this awesome tie-in comic. Title is a play on "pastel grunge". You can also read this on [DA](http://octarinepegacorn.deviantart.com/art/Pastel-Gunge-Pastel-Reader-Part-I-681206252), [Quotev](https://www.quotev.com/story/9555882/Pastel-Gunge), and [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/story/109728875-pastel-gunge-pastel-reader).

As much as you enjoyed wintertime, the salt on the streets and sidewalks meant that you had to travel to school alone. You weren’t expecting to see anyone out the day your life changed for the okay. Sneople (snail people) and other halophobes were provided with alternate transportation during this season. Even sneople (snake people), whose scales made sure they weren’t bothered by the grains, couldn’t deal with the temperature. Species-wise your town was fairly diverse your home was in the Moist District, whose population primarily consisted of sneople (snail and snake people).

When you saw a pink naked person doubled over by the side of the pond you passed everyday you were caught off guard. What could you make of someone who committed public indecency while there was snow on the ground? 

_Skinny dipper???_

As you neared you saw that her rosiness was not the result of hypothermia. She was made of slime. Legally she wasn’t nude because what would have been considered her pink bits (if her entire body was’t monochromatic) were not on display. 

“Hana was right,” you heard her mutter. “Guess I’m going to have to use actual skates if I don’t want to become a frozen fishdick.” 

She was preoccupied with her legs, which were literally freezing from the knees down. The frantic calf rubbing was doing little to help so she started to stomp her left foot.

“Careful!” you called out. She spun around, her one large silvery eye wide open. “You might crack your leg or something…”

The slime girl either blinked or winked at you very slowly. When she realized she was still bent over, she straightened up. 

“Can you get me to the-” Her nose scrunched. “-skull-ull?”

“The what?”

“The sko-skull.” 

“Mmm...?” you pressed your lips together, not meaning to make a sound with your mouth. 

“You know, the place where people get to sit on their butts all day.” 

“The _school_?”

“ _Sküle_. Yeah, that place.”

“I was just going there. Do you want me to walk with you? I’m [name], by the way.”

“Pastel.” 

“‘Pastel’?” 

“Yeah, like ‘pastel grunge’.”

“You’re really named after a Tumblr subculture?”

“ _Welp_ ,” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together, “let’s goo!” 

Fists balled up, she started trudging along the pavement. Her frigid feet made it hard for her to gain speed. 

“Pastel, do you need help?” She bit down on her lip, looking off to the side. “If you want, you can hold onto me.” 

“Right on,” she replied, sliding backwards and behind you. When Pastel grabbed your waist, you noticed her hands felt more solid than a slime person’s should. 

“When we get there, I’m going to make sure you warm up.” 

“We _just_ met, [name].” 

You felt fortunate that she was still looking off to the side so she couldn’t see the expression on your face.  
***  
By the time both of you arrived in the cafeteria (where most students waited until classes began) the cyclopean girl was sniffling. You reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a Kleenhex packet. 

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

After like eleven seconds of nose blowing, she returned the tissue and you discreetly dropped it into a near-overflowing garbage can. Pastel grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the lavatory.

While she turned the hand dryer’s spout upside down and rested her leg against the device you washed your hands and wondered if asking her to keep her bodily fluids to herself in the future would offend her. The snot may have been a gift. You were not very knowledgable on the customs of sleeple (slime people).

 _That’s a ridiculous name for her people_ , you scolded yourself.

The door, which was at least ten feet high as per the county’s anti-height-based discrimination policy, swung open. One of the teachers stepped in, glaring daggers at you. (Not actual daggers because she would be arrested for child endangerment if she was able to and did so on school grounds.)

“Miss [surname],” she announced, holding the mucus-laden cloth in front of her. “You’re not allowed to have gum in school.” 

You pointed to Pastel, whose other leg was now propped against the dryer.

“Young lady, you are naked!”

“My nip nops aren’t out, tho’.”

“Either way, you’re going to have to wear something from the lost and found or have your parent(s)/legal guardian(s) bring clothes.”

Her tone made it clear that if there had been visible nipples, your pink friend would have landed a detention. The slime girl slapped her side, causing her entire body to jiggle like gelatin.

“Oh, right,” she muttered. “[name], accompany the new student-”

“Pastel.”

“...Pass-tell to the Fashion Wing, where she can get an outfit that’ll contain plasma.”  
***  
Before she strutted out of the textile classroom, you couldn’t help but ponder the nature of your new acquaintance. You knew nothing of her background. She was slime. Even in the Moist District, they were not common. One of your neighbors liked to cover himself in ectoplasm but that had little to do with his state of life.

“What’d ya think, [name]?”

“Pink Slime Is Actually Edible” was emblazoned in magenta on her t-shirt. 

“I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“I said ‘think’, not feel.” 

“Okay, I think you may get in trouble for wearing it.”

“Who are you to sludge? The jellows in there gave it the okay. They all thought it was clever.”

“Even whoever teaches that class?”

“What is a person who teaches called ‘round these parts?”

“A teacher?”

“Jeeslush, how am I supposed to know what one of those looks like?”

The two of you stood there staring at each other. Her, with a confused expression that started to morph into a self-satisfied smile when she saw you, with your exaggerated frown.

“I have to get to my cooking class.”

“Alright, let’s gooooo.”

“Wait, where’s your first period?”

“Don’t you mean when?”

You chose to ignore that. “Where’s the class you’re supposed to be in?”

“It’s the same as yours.”

“How do you know we’re in the same class?”

“Because I decided I wanted to go there before I even heard the word ‘class’. As soon as you said ‘cooking’ I wanted in.”

It wouldn’t be your fault if Pastel got in trouble for skipping out on her first block so you let her tag along. That day was a special occasion. Everyone got to make cookies and share them at the end of the period. Or at least you were supposed to before your teacher informed you that because you were late, you were to make up the assignment at a later date. So everyone minus you and Pastel got to make cookies and share them. That didn’t bother you too badly, because being in a diverse setting meant diverse palates. Ever since the carrageenan smoothie given to you by a well-meaning kelpie classmate, you were wary of other species’ cuisines. 

So instead of doing anything productive, Pastel dragged you around the room and made small talk with the other students. After observing trayful after trayful of unappetizing cookies, you saw one that was covered in snickerdoodles. She stared down at them, her lips parted.

“Those look like dicks.”

“Pastel.”

“Dickerdoodles.”

“Pastel, no.” 

Just then one of the creators of the unfortunately shaped cookies swooped in and introduced himself to you, while his baking partner (who you were already acquainted with) introduced herself to Pastel. 

The conversation was going along pretty well until you remembered he was the roommate of the guy who liked to rub spirit residue into his flesh. You stopped feeling chatty and he kind of awkwardly stood next to you until the teacher announced to the class it was time to share.

After the snickerduo excused themselves you argued with Pastel over whether or not she should tell the chick to consider opening an adult bakery. Then the argument turned into whether or not the town was zoned for an adult bakery and how far away from the school it would have to legally be.

“I’m not going to win this so I’m just going to drop it.”

“ _Not everything has to be a stupid competi-_ Wait, did you say you weren’t going to win? That means I’m not going to lose. Which means I win!”

“You know what, Pastel? I think your next shirt should say something like ‘Sore Ooze-er’.”

“Hey, you can’t say that,” she deadpanned. “That’s matterist. Who are you to sludge my behavior, anyway?”

A change of subject seemed like a good idea. 

“Pastel, that dude who was talking to me associates with a guy who uses ectoplasm as lotion,” you said, a bit louder than intended. Originally you were going to say his roomie used ‘plasm as bathwater but that seemed a bit excessive.

_Even if it’s true._

“So,” your new buddy said after the longer-than-necessary pause, “does that mean I should be gelous that homeboy was caking on you?”

“What? Why would you be interested in someone who willingly sleeps in the same apartment as a man who coats his flesh with the spiritual equivalent of, uh, you know?”

She rolled her eye. 

“Wait. Pastel… Did I offend you? I didn’t mean-”

The slime girl crossed her arms and huffed. 

“You just sounded a little desperate to tell me about his weirdo roommate.” She cringed before looking back at you. “I thought his hobby excited you or something.”

“What? No way. I was just-” 

Across the room you could see the male half of the snickerduo head back over to his station, a couple of friends in tow. One of them seemed to be very much in awe of Pastel.

“You gel, eh?”

“You jelly?”  
***  
“What do you mean, you’re not _enrolled at my school?_ ”

The school day had ended early due to snowstorm predictions. Pastel’s solidifying arms were once more wrapped around your waist as you headed back home. Until it stopped snowing, you offered to let her stay with you. 

“Hey, I had a good reason for technically trespassing.”

“Gel- I mean... Well?” you prodded.

“I’ll tell you when we get to your house.”

You looked over your shoulder to give her a friendly glare. She gently headbutted you. Her forehead made you feel like you were experiencing brain freeze. 

“Brrr. Okay, I’m not sure whether to tell you to keep still and conserve energy or wiggle around so you’re not ice by the time we get there.”

“You’re sweet, you know that?”

That caught you off guard. From the rest of your interactions that day, you had her pegged down as an asshole whose primary objective in life, even in awkward situations, was to seek amusement. 

_But that’s what makes her fun to be around_ , you realized, facing forward. You didn’t want her to see how flustered you were.  
***  
“I said I _had_ a good reason. Not that I still have it.” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked down.

“Pastel, if you weren’t supposed to be there then why didn’t the Baking for Beginners teacher say anything?” 

“Because she’s dead inside and doesn’t care who comes and goos through her classroom, only that she gets a steady paycheck.” 

“That- That’s pretty accurate, actually. You figured that out in just one class period? I just assumed she thought I made you with a home lab kit.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty reasonable. ‘Bring Your Spawn to Work Day’.” 

She closed her eye and nodded knowingly, mounting the ottoman with one foot. Your living room seemed cool enough to keep her from dripping

“When I asked you earlier how you knew you were in the same class as me, you said you decided you were going as soon as I said ‘cooking’. I thought you were joking.”  
***  
Pastel’s belly rumbled. As in her stomach rumbled which in turn caused

“-mah jelly belly-”

to shake with a _squelch_. You assumed that was normal for people made out of slime.

“Do- Do you want something to eat, Pastel?”

Hands clasped together, she beamed with a twinkle in her eye. 

“If that’s not too much trouble~”

“Sweets okay?”

“Absolutely. And I can make us cookies~” she continued, twinkle intensifying. 

“Nah, that’s okay. Just make yourself comfortable.”  
***  
“Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll/Don’t care if you think I’m dumb, I don’t care at all~” blasting through your house alerted you to the fact that your guest had gotten into your collection of Greco-Welsh pop music. 

_What is that pink asshole up to this time?_ you thought before shuddering at your inappropriate (yet still situationally appropriate) choice of words. 

You took a few moments to make sure you wouldn’t spill the contents of the tray and then headed back to your gelatinous companion. 

Pastel was going hard in the living room. Not only was she blasting _Electra Heart_ , she had gotten into your _Silly Sympony_ DVDs. And was rewinding the part in “The Cookie Carnival” where Miss Jello was going even harder than her. 

“I’m Miss SugarPink, liquor liquor lips/Hit me with your sweet love and steal me with a kiss,” she muttered whilst rocking her hips. 

Her concentration was so great she didn’t immediately detect you behind her. Plucking the remote from her grasp, you let her stare at the screen for a few seconds, her dominant hand subconsciously making grabby gestures, before spinning around and grasping your shoulders.

“Miss Jello needs to calm down.” 

“Shut up. Your cookiesona is a dickerdoodle.”

You used your chin to gesture to the sweets tray, which was laying on the coffee table. She gave you a few gentle brotherly slaps on the cheek before going over to grab a Banshey Bar and plopping down on the sofa. 

The shrieking of the kettle made you jump up and four and a half minutes later you reemerged from the kitchen, holding two steaming mugs. Pastel was texting and at first you panicked, thinking that she had your phone. But no, it was a smaller model and had a different case. From where you were standing, you could tell it was a meticulously crafted decoden one but not what was on it. 

“Pastel, where were you keeping that?” 

“Nature’s pocket.” 

All you could do was stare blankly. She had one eye smack dab in the center of her face. It was possible she had more orifices than someone of your species did. 

The Mummie Dodger that you were trying to dip into your mug slipped from your grasp and completely submerged itself in your drink. 

For the next twenty-eight minutes or so you tried to make small talk but she was giving you mostly monosyllabic answers. At roughly three minute intervals her phone buzzed, indicating that whoever was texting her was… texting her.

When your mug was empty you turned to head back into the kitchen. A bright flash went off behind you, causing you to drop it. 

“Pastel, did- Did you just take a picture of my backside?”

“Yes, but it was on accident. Just be glad I caught your best feature.” 

“Thank you,” you replied, deciding to continue on with your life. 

In the kitchen, you pondered the meaning of her words. 

_Is it really my ‘best feature’?_

Craning your neck around, you gave yourself a cramp and decided to focus on a more pressing matter.

 _Was that picture really an accident?_

Back in the living room Pastel’s eyeball was almost glued to her phone’s screen. 

“Heeey, buddy. Wanna take a gelfie?”

“Okay.”

“You take it,” she demanded, forking over her gelphone. “My depth perception sucks.” 

It was surprisingly free of any pink residue. You admired the Gudetama case before Pastel impatiently bumped you with her hip.

“Pastel, you’re not Miss Jello or SugarPink. You don’t need to move your hips like that to impress anyone.”

After the selfie, in which your “buddy” flashed peace signs and you just sort of leaned closer, you sat back down and Pastel sprawled herself on the couch. Her eyelid fluttered a bit before closing. You watched her sleep for a few moments before you were startled by the cellphone falling on the floor.

 _Hey, Pastel_ , you practiced in your head, _you got a tex- Oops._

She hadn’t bothered to put in a passcode, so you accidently caught a glimpse of a conversation you were never meant to see. 

Someone named “Hana <3 <3 <3” had been sent the selfie, which Pastel had captioned “Isn’t she qute?” Hana <3^3 responded with “GET IN THAT.” 

You gently placed the phone on her belly. It slowly sunk into the goo before being enveloped completely. 

_Aw, so that’s “nature’s pocket”._  
***  
While Pastel rested, you were in the kitchen putting your things away and scrubbing down the counter. 

“Katy, my baby/Yeah~?”

You sigh was an amused one. Choosing to not dry your hands, you hurried back into the living room in time to see Pastel bust a new move.

“California gurls/We’re unforgettable/Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top/Sun-kissed skin so hot we’ll melt your popsicle~”

She looked normal at first, mostly firm but a slight jiggle pulsated underneath her skin (?) in time to the song. The next second her body had begun to liquefy, dropping to the floor with a thick splash. You screamed as the rosy gel took on an anemic hue as it spread out. The large eye in the center brought to mind a yolk cracked from an off-colored egg. 

“[name]!” 

The sight had been too horrific to look away from so the palms of your hands planted themselves on your face, obscuring everything. Another pair of hands were placed over yours. 

“[name], I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in and I didn’t think about how gross that might look to other people.” 

She slowly slid her hands off and you wiped away a couple of tears before they had a chance to fall. 

“Tag your body horror, Pastel!” you breathed out with a quivering smile because, despite your heavily throbbing heart, the situation was no longer horrifying. Her own relieved smile was the softest expression you’d seen on her face. 

_Soft gunge_ , you thought. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but now I’m going to add ‘California Gurls’ to my candy gore playlist. Katy Perry must be a sadist. She enjoys seeing boys break their necks and-”

“Being so hot she melts their _popsicles_.” 

At that moment you noticed you were standing so close to her that if you expanded your lungs enough your chest would graze hers. 

“My eye is up here, [name].”

To your surprise, she touched your hands again. 

“Yeah, well, you’re giving me the ol’ wink wonk, too.”

“That can’t be helped!” she exclaimed, letting go of one hand to point at her face.

You giggled and her face broke into a huge grin. Her hand found yours for the third time but this time she held it, clearly not wanting to let go ~~o~~.

“You know what, Pastel? You can go fuck yourself.”

“Yeah, well, you can go muck yourself.” 

“Where did your shirt go, anyway?”

“Dunno. It got too hot when I was dancing. I flung it off. The next one can say ‘One Stop Shop for Glop’.”

“Is my… Is my butt really my best feature?”

“Oh.”

“You look disappointed.”

“I thought you were going to ask if your cookiesona really was a dickerdoodle.”

There was a six-second lull.

“You’re really proud of yourself for coming up with that, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, mah little almost Mummie Dodger.” 

“What makes my cookiesona ‘almost’ a Mummie Dodger?” you asked, anticipating a cute answer. 

“‘Cause you’re not filled with jelly yet.”

“Jam,” you responded, causing Pastel’s finger guns to droop. “They’re filled with jam.”

“Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Banshey [banshee] Bars are a parody of Hershey Bars. Mummie Dodgers are a parody of Jammie Dodgers. 
> 
> Pastel © PinkieLover98/sparkly-arts  
> “Bubblegum Bitch” © Marina Diamandis and Rick Nowels  
> “California Gurls” © Katy Perry, Lukasz Gottwald, Max Martin, Benjamin Levin, Bonnie McKee, and Calvin Broadus


End file.
